Domestic Manners of the Americans by Fanny Trollope

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information that he would walk to the hotel. Upon receiving thisintimation the silent crowd divided itself in a very orderlymanner, leaving a space for him to walk through them. He did so,uncovered, though the distance was considerable, and the weathervery cold; but he alone (with the exception of a few Europeangentlemen who were present) was without a hat. He wore his greyhair, carelessly, but not ungracefully arranged, and, spite ofhis harsh gaunt features, he looks like a gentleman and asoldier. He was in deep mourning, having very recently lost hiswife; they were said to have been very happy together, and I waspained by hearing a voice near me exclaim, as he approached thespot where I stood, "There goes Jackson, where is his wife?"Another sharp voice, at a little distance, cried, "Adams forever!" And these sounds were all I heard to break the silence.

"They manage these matters better" in the East, I have no doubt,but as yet I was still in the West, and still inclined to think,that however meritorious the American character may be, it is notamiable.

Mr. T. and his sons joined the group of citizens who waited uponhim to the hotel, and were presented to the President in form;that is, they shook hands with him. Learning that he intended toremain a few hours there, or more properly, that it would be afew hours before the steam-boat would be ready to proceed, Mr. T.secured berths on board, and returned, to take a hasty dinnerwith us. At the hour appointed by the captain, Mr. T. and hisson accompanied the General on board; and by subsequent letters Ilearnt that they had conversed a good deal with him, and werepleased by his conversation and manners, but deeply disgusted bythe brutal familiarity to which they saw him exposed at everyplace on their progress at which they stopped; I am tempted toquote one passage, as sufficiently descriptive of the manner,which so painfully grated against their European feelings.

'There was not a hulking boy from a keel-boat who was notintroduced to the President, unless, indeed, as was the casewith some, they introduced themselves: for instance, I was athis elbow when a greasy fellow accosted him thus:-

"General Jackson, I guess?"

'The General bowed assent.

"Why they told me you was dead."

"No! Providence has hitherto preserved my life."

"And is your wife alive too?"

'The General, apparently much hurt, signified the contrary, uponwhich the courtier concluded his harangue, by saying, "Aye, Ithought it was the one or the t'other of ye."'

CHAPTER 14

American Spring--Controversy between Messrs. Owen and Cambell--Public ball--Separation of the sexes--American freedom--Execution

The American spring is by no means so agreeable as the Americanautumn; both move with faultering step, and slow; but thislingering pace, which is delicious in autumn, is most tormentingin the spring. In the one case you are about to part with afriend, who is becoming more gentle and agreeable at every step,and such steps can hardly be made too slowly; but in the otheryou are making your escape from a dreary cavern, where you havebeen shut up with black frost and biting blasts, and where yourbest consolation was being smoke-dried.

But, upon second thoughts, I believe it would be more correct,instead of complaining of the slow pace of the American spring,to declare that they have no spring at all. The beautiful autumnoften lingers on till Christmas, after which winter can betrifled with no longer, and generally keeps a stubborn holdthrough the months which we call spring, when he suddenly turnshis back, and summer takes his place.

The inconceivable uncertainty of the climate is, however, such,that I will not venture to state about what time this changetakes place, for it is certain, that let me name what time Iwould, it would be easy for any weather journaliser to prove mewrong, by quoting that the thermometer was at 100 at a periodwhich my statement included in the winter; or 50 long after Imade the summer commence.

The climate of England is called uncertain, but it can never, Ithink, be so described by any who have experienced that of theUnited States. A gentleman, on whose accuracy I could depend,told me he had repeatedly known the thermometer vary above 40degrees in the space of twelve hours. This most unpleasantcaprice of the temperature is, I conceive, one cause of theunhealthiness of the climate.

At length, however, after shivering and shaking till we weretired of it, and having been half ruined in fire-wood (which,by the way, is nearly as dear as at Paris, and dearer in manyparts of the Union), the summer burst upon us full blown,and the ice-house, the piazza, and the jalousies were againin full requisition.

It was in the early summer of this year (1829) that Cincinnatioffered a spectacle unprecedented, I believe, in any age orcountry. Mr. Owen, of Lanark, of New Harmony, of Texas, wellknown to the world by all or either of these additions, hadchallenged the whole religious public of the United States todiscuss with him publicly the truth or falsehood of all thereligions that had ever been propagated on the face of the earth;stating, further, that he undertook to prove that they were allequally false, and nearly equally mischievous. This mostappalling challenge was conveyed to the world through the mediumof New Orleans newspapers, and for some time it remainedunanswered; at length the Reverend Alexander Campbell, fromBethany, (not of Judaea, but of Kentucky,) proclaimed, throughthe same medium, that he was ready to take up the gauntlet. Theplace fixed for this extraordinary discussion was Cincinnati; thetime, the second Monday in May, 1829, being about a year from thetime the challenge was accepted; thus giving the disputants timeto prepare themselves.

Mr. Owen's preparation, however, could only have been such asthose who run may read, for, during the interval, he traversedgreat part of North America, crossed the Atlantic twice, visitedEngland, Scotland, Mexico, Texas, and I know not how many placesbesides.

Mr. Campbell, I was told, passed this period very differently,being engaged in reading with great research and perseverance allthe theological works within his reach. But whatever confidencethe learning and piety of Mr. Campbell might have inspired in hisfriends, or in the Cincinnati Christians in general, it was not,as it appeared, sufficient to induce Mr. Wilson, the Presbyterianminister of the largest church in the town, to permit the displayof them within its walls. This refusal was greatly reprobated,and much regretted, as the curiosity to hear the discussion wasvery general, and no other edifice offered so much accommodation.

A Methodist meeting-house, large enough to contain a thousandpersons, was at last chosen; a small stage was arranged round thepulpit, large enough to accommodate the disputants and theirstenographers; the pulpit itself was throughout the whole timeoccupied by the aged father of Mr. Campbell, whose flowing whitehair, and venerable countenance, constantly expressive of thedeepest attention, and the most profound interest, made him avery striking figure in the group. Another platform was raisedin a conspicuous part of the building, on which were seated sevengentlemen of the city, selected as moderators.

The chapel was equally divided, one half being appropriated toladies, the other to gentlemen; and the door of entrance reservedfor the ladies was carefully guarded by persons appointed toprevent any crowding or difficulty from impeding their approach.I suspect that the ladies were indebted to Mr. Owen for thisattention; the arrangements respecting them on this occasion wereby no means American.

When Mr. Owen rose, the building was thronged in every part; theaudience, or congregation, (I hardly know which to call them)were of the highest rank of citizens, and as large a proportionof best bonnets fluttered there, as the "two horned church"itself could boast.

It was in the profoundest silence, and apparently with thedeepest attention, that Mr. Owen's opening address was received;and surely it was the most singular one that ever Christian menand women sat to listen to.

When I recollect its object, and the uncompromising manner inwhich the orator stated his mature conviction that the wholehistory of the Christian mission was a fraud, and its sacredorigin a fable, I cannot but wonder that it was so listened to;yet at the time I felt no such wonder. Never did any onepractise the _suaviter in modo_ with more powerful effect thanMr. Owen. The gentle tone of his voice; his mild, sometimesplayful, but never ironical manner; the absence of everyvehement or harsh expression; the affectionate interestexpressed for "the whole human family," the air of candourwith which he expressed his wish to be convinced he was wrong,if he indeed were so--his kind smile--the mild expression ofhis eyes--in short, his whole manner, disarmed zeal, andproduced a degree of tolerance that those who did not hearhim would hardly believe possible.

Half an hour was the time allotted for each haranguer; when thiswas expired, the moderators were seen to look at their watches.Mr. Owen, too, looked at his (without pausing) smiled, shook hishead, and said in a parenthesis "a moment's patience," andcontinued for nearly another half hour.

Mr. Campbell then arose; his person, voice, and manner allgreatly in his favour. In his first attack he used the arms,which in general have been considered as belonging to the otherside of the question. He quizzed Mr. Owen most unmercifully;pinched him here for his parallelograms; hit him there for hishuman perfectibility, and kept the whole audience in a roar oflaughter. Mr. Owen joined in it most heartily himself, andlistened to him throughout with the air of a man who is delightedat the good things he is hearing, and exactly in the cue toenjoy all the other good things that he is sure will follow.Mr. Campbell's watch was the only one which reminded us that wehad listened to him for half an hour; and having continuedspeaking for a few minutes after he had looked at it, he sat downwith, I should think, the universal admiration of his auditory.

Mr. Owen again addressed us; and his first five minutes wereoccupied in complimenting Mr. Campbell with all the strengthhis exceeding hearty laughter had left him. But then he changedhis tone, and said the business was too serious to permit thenext half hour to pass so lightly and so pleasantly as the last;and then he read us what he called his twelve fundamental lawsof human nature. These twelve laws he has taken so much troubleto circulate to all the nations of the earth, that it must bequite unnecessary to repeat them here. To me they appeartwelve truisms, that no man in his senses would ever think ofcontradicting; but how any one can have conceived that theexplanation and defence of these laws could furnish forthoccupation for his pen and his voice, through whole years ofunwearying declamation, or how he can have dreamed that theycould be twisted into a refutation of the Christian religion,is a mystery which I never expect to understand.

From this time Mr. Owen entrenched himself behind his twelvelaws, and Mr. Campbell, with equal gravity, confined himself tobringing forward the most elaborate theological authorities inevidence of the truth of revealed religion.

Neither appeared to me to answer the other; but to confinethemselves to the utterance of what they had uppermost in theirown minds when the discussion began. I lamented this on the sideof Mr. Campbell, as I am persuaded he would have been much morepowerful had he trusted more to himself and less to his books.Mr. Owen is an extraordinary man, and certainly possessed oftalent, but he appears to me so utterly benighted in the mistsof his own theories, that he has quite lost the power of lookingthrough them, so as to get a peep at the world as it reallyexists around him.

At the conclusion of the debate (which lasted for fifteensittings) Mr. Campbell desired the whole assembly to sit down.They obeyed. He then requested all who wished well toChristianity to rise, and a very large majority were in aninstant on their legs. He again requested them to be seated, andthen desired those who believed not in its doctrines to rise, anda few gentlemen and one lady obeyed. Mr. Owen protested againstthis manoeuvre, as he called it, and refused to believe that itafforded any proof of the state of men's minds, or of women'seither; declaring, that not only was such a result to beexpected, in the present state of things, but that it was theduty of every man who had children to feed, not to hazard thesale of his hogs, or his iron, by a declaration of opinions whichmight offend the majority of his customers. It was said, that atthe end of the fifteen meetings the numerical amount of theChristians and the Infidels of Cincinnati remained exactly whatit was when they began.

This was a result that might have been perhaps anticipated; butwhat was much less to have been expected, neither of thedisputants ever appeared to lose their temper. I was told theywere much in each other's company, constantly dining together,and on all occasions expressed most cordially their mutualesteem.

All this I think could only have happened in America. I am notquite sure that it was very desirable it should have happenedany where.

In noting the various brilliant events which diversified ourresidence in the western metropolis, I have omitted to mentionthe Birthday Ball, as it is called, a festivity which, I believe,has place on the 22nd of February, in every town and citythroughout the Union. It is the anniversary of the birth ofGeneral Washington, and well deserves to be marked by theAmericans as a day of jubilee.

I was really astonished at the _coup d'oeil_ on entering, for Isaw a large room filled with extremely well-dressed company,among whom were many very beautiful girls. The gentlemen alsowere exceedingly smart, but I had not yet been long enough inWestern America not to feel startled at recognising in almostevery full-dressed _beau_ that passed me, the master or shopmanthat I had been used to see behind the counter, or lolling at thedoor of every shop in the city. The fairest and finest bellessmiled and smirked on them with as much zeal and satisfaction asI ever saw bestowed on an eldest son, and I therefore could feelno doubt of their being considered as of the highest rank. Yetit must not be supposed that there is no distinction of classes:at this same ball I was looking among the many very beautifulgirls I saw there for one more beautiful still, with whose lovelyface I had been particularly struck at the school examination Ihave mentioned. I could not find her, and asked a gentleman whythe beautiful Miss C. was not there.

"You do not yet understand our aristocracy," he replied, "thefamily of Miss C. are mechanics."

"But the young lady has been educated at the same school asthese, whom I see here, and I know her brother has a shop in thetown, quite as large, and apparently as prosperous, as thosebelonging to any of these young men. What is the difference?"

"He is a mechanic; he assists in making the articles he sells;the others call themselves merchants."

The dancing was not quite like, yet not very unlike, what we seeat an assize or race-ball in a country town. They call theirdances cotillions instead of quadrilles, and the figures arecalled from the orchestra in English, which has very ludicrouseffect on European ears.

The arrangements for the supper were very singular, but eminentlycharacteristic of the country. The gentlemen had a splendidentertainment spread for them in another large room of the hotel,while the poor ladies had each a plate put into their hands, asthey pensively promenaded the ballroom during their absence; andshortly afterwards servants appeared, bearing trays ofsweetmeats, cakes, and creams. The fair creatures then sat downon a row of chairs placed round the walls, and each making atable of her knees, began eating her sweet, but sad and sulkyrepast. The effect was extremely comic; their gala dresses andthe decorated room forming a contrast the most unaccountable withtheir uncomfortable and forlorn condition.

This arrangement was owing neither to economy nor want of aroom large enough to accommodate the whole party, but purelybecause the gentlemen liked it better. This was the answergiven me, when my curiosity tempted me to ask why the ladiesand gentlemen did not sup together; and this was the answerrepeated to me afterwards by a variety of people to whom I putthe same question.

I am led to mention this feature of American manners veryfrequently, not only because it constantly recurs, but becauseI consider it as being in a great degree the cause of thatuniversal deficiency in good manners and graceful demeanour,both in men and women, which is so remarkable.

Where there is no court, which every where else is the glasswherein the higher orders dress themselves, and which againreflected from them to the classes below, goes far towardspolishing, in some degree, a great majority of the population,it is not to be expected that manner should be made so much astudy, or should attain an equal degree of elegance; but thedeficiency, and the total difference, is greater than thiscause alone could account for. The hours of enjoyment areimportant to human beings every where, and we every where findthem preparing to make the most of them. Those who enjoythemselves only in society, whether intellectual or convivial,prepare themselves for it, and such make but a poor figure whenforced to be content with the sweets of solitude: while, onthe other hand, those to whom retirement affords the greatestpleasure, seldom give or receive much in society. Whereverthe highest enjoyment is found by both sexes in scenes wherethey meet each other, both will prepare themselves to appearwith advantage there. The men will not indulge in the luxuryof chewing tobacco, or even of spitting, and the women willcontrive to be capable of holding a higher post than that ofunwearied tea-makers.

In America, with the exception of dancing, which is almost whollyconfined to the unmarried of both sexes, all the enjoyments ofthe men are found in the absence of the women. They dine, theyplay cards, they have musical meetings, they have suppers, all inlarge parties but all without women. Were it not that such isthe custom, it is impossible but that they would have ingenuityenough to find some expedient for sparing the wives and daughtersof the opulent the sordid offices of household drudgery whichthey almost all perform in their families. Even in the slavestates, though they may not clear-starch and iron, mix puddingsand cakes one half of the day, and watch them baking the otherhalf, still the very highest occupy themselves in their householdconcerns, in a manner that precludes the possibility of theirbecoming elegant and enlightened companions. In Baltimore,Philadelphia, and New York, I met with some exceptions to this;but speaking of the country generally, it is unquestionably true.

Had I not become heartily tired of my prolonged residence in aplace I cordially disliked, and which moreover I began to fearwould not be attended with the favourable results we hadanticipated, I should have found an almost inexhaustible sourceof amusement in the notions and opinions of the people Iconversed with; and as it was, I often did enjoy this in aconsiderable degree.

We received, as I have mentioned, much personal kindness; butthis by no means interfered with the national feeling of, Ibelieve, unconquerable dislike, which evidently lives at thebottom of every truly American heart against the English. Thisshows itself in a thousand little ways, even in the midst of themost kind and friendly intercourse, but often in a manner morecomic than offensive.

Sometimes it was thus.--"Well, now, I think your government mustjust be fit to hang themselves for that last war they cooked up;it has been the ruin of you I expect, for it has just been themaking of us."

Then.--"Well, I do begin to understand your broken English betterthan I did; but no wonder I could not make it out very well atfirst, as you come from London; for every body knows that Londonslang is the most dreadful in the world. How queer it is now,that all the people that live in London should put the _h_ whereit is not, and never will put it where it is."

I was egotistical enough to ask the lady who said this, if shefound that I did so.

"No; you do not," was the reply; but she added, with a complacentsmile, "it is easy enough to see the pains you take about it: Iexpect you have heard how we Americans laugh at you all for it,and so you are trying to learn our way of pronouncing."

One lady asked me very gravely, if we had left home in order toget rid of the vermin with which the English of all ranks wereafflicted? "I have heard from unquestionable authority," sheadded, "that it is quite impossible to walk through the streetsof London without having the head filled."

I laughed a little, but spoke not a word. She coloured highly,and said, "There is nothing so easy as to laugh, but truth istruth, laughed at or not."

I must preface the following anecdote by observing that inAmerica nearly the whole of the insect tribe are classed underthe general name of bug; the unfortunate cosmopolite known bythat name amongst us is almost the only one not included in thisterm. A lady abruptly addressed me with, "Don't you hatechintzes, Mrs. Trollope?"

"No indeed," I replied, "I think them very pretty."

"There now! if that is not being English! I reckon you call thatloving your country; well, thank God! we Americans have somethingbetter to love our country for than that comes to; we are notobliged to say that we like nasty filthy chintzes to shew that weare good patriots."

"Chintzes? what are chintzes?"

"Possible! do you pretend you don't know what chintzes are? Whythe nasty little stinking blood-suckers that all the beds inLondon are full of."

I have since been informed that _chinche_ is Spanish for bug; butat the time the word suggested only the material of a curtain.

Among other instances of that species of modesty so often seen inAmerica, and so unknown to us, I frequently witnessed one, which,while it evinced the delicacy of the ladies, gave opportunity formany lively sallies from the gentlemen. I saw the same sort ofthing repeated on different occasions at least a dozen times;e.g. a young lady is employed in making a shirt, (which it wouldbe a symptom of absolute depravity to name), a gentleman enters,and presently begins the sprightly dialogue with "What are youmaking Miss Clarissa?"

"Only a frock for my sister's doll, sir."

"A frock? not possible. Don't I see that it is not a frock?Come, Miss Clarissa, what is it?"

"Tis just an apron for one of our Negroes, Mr. Smith."

"How can you. Miss Clarissa! why is not the two side joinedtogether? I expect you were better tell me what it is."

"My! why then Mr. Smith, it is just a pillow-case."

"Now that passes. Miss Clarissa! 'Tis a pillow-case for a giantthen. Shall I guess, Miss?"

"Quit, Mr. Smith; behave yourself, or I'll certainly be affronted."

Before the conversation arrives at this point, both gentlemanand lady are in convulsions of laughter. I once saw a younglady so hard driven by a wit, that to prove she was making abag, and nothing but a bag, she sewed up the ends before hiseyes, shewing it triumphantly, and exclaiming, "there now! whatcan you say to that?"

One of my friends startled me one day by saying in anaffectionate, but rather compassionate tone, "How will you bearto go back to England to live, and to bring up your children ina country where you know you are considered as no better thanthe dirt in the streets?"

I begged she would explain.

"Why, you know I would not affront you for any thing; but thefact is, we Americans know rather more than you think for, andcertainly if I was in England I should not think of associatingwith anything but lords. I have always been among the firsthere, and if I travelled I should like to do the same. I don'tmean, I'm sure, that I would not come to see you, but you knowyou are not lords, and therefore I know very well how you aretreated in your own country."

I very rarely contradicted statements of this kind, as I foundit less trouble, and infinitely more amusing, to let them pass;indeed, had I done otherwise, it would have been of little avail,as among the many conversations I held in America respecting myown country, I do not recollect a single instance in which itwas not clear that I knew much less about it than those Iconversed with.

On the subject of national glory, I presume I got more than myshare of buffeting; for being a woman, there was no objection totheir speaking out. One lady, indeed, who was a great patriot,evinced much delicacy towards me, for upon some one speaking ofNew Orleans, she interrupted them, saying, "I wish you would nottalk of New Orleans;" and, turning to me, added with greatgentleness, "It must be so painful to your feelings to hear thatplace mentioned!"

The immense superiority of the American to the British navy wasa constant theme, and to this I always listened, as nearly aspossible, in silence. I repeatedly heard it stated, (so often,indeed, and from such various quarters, that I think there mustbe some truth in it), that the American sailors fire with acertainty of slaughter, whereas our shots are sent very nearly atrandom. "This, " said a naval officer of high reputation, "isthe blessed effect of your game laws; your sailors never fire ata mark; whilst our free tars, from their practice in pursuit ofgame, can any of them split a hair." But the favourite, theconstant, the universal sneer that met me every where, was on ourold-fashioned attachments to things obsolete. Had they a littlewit among them, I am certain they would have given us thecognomen of "My Grandmother, the British," for that is the tonethey take, and it is thus they reconcile themselves to the crudenewness of every thing around them.

"I wonder you are not sick of kings, chancellors, andarchbishops, and all your fustian of wigs and gowns," said avery clever gentleman to me once, with an affected yawn,"I protest the very sound almost sets me to sleep."

It is amusing to observe how soothing the idea seems, that theyare more modern, more advanced than England. Our classicliterature, our princely dignities, our noble institutions, areall gone-by relics of the dark ages.

This, and the vastness of their naked territory, make up theflattering unction which is laid upon the soul, as an antidoteto the little misgiving which from time to time arises, lesttheir large country be not of quite so much importance amongthe nations, as a certain paltry old-fashioned little place thatthey wot of.

I was once sitting with a party of ladies, among whom were oneor two young girls, whose curiosity was greater than theirpatriotism, and they asked me many questions respecting thesplendour and extent of London. I was endeavouring to satisfythem by the best description I could give, when we wereinterrupted by another lady, who exclaimed, "Do hold yourtongues, girls, about London; if you want to know what abeautiful city is, look at Philadelphia; when Mrs. Trollope hasbeen there, I think she will allow that it is better worthtalking about than that great overgrown collection of nasty,filthy, dirty streets, that they call London."

Once in Ohio, and once in the district of Columbia, I hadan atlas displayed before me, that I might be convinced bythe evidence of my own eyes what a very contemptible littlecountry I came from. I shall never forget the gravity withwhich, on the latter occasion, a gentleman drew out hisgraduated pencil-case, and shewed me past contradiction, thatthe whole of the British dominions did not equal in size one oftheir least important states; nor the air with which, after thedemonstration, he placed his feet upon the chimney-piece,considerably higher than his head, and whistled Yankee Doodle.

Their glorious institutions, their unequalled freedom, were, ofcourse, not left unsung.

I took some pains to ascertain what they meant by their gloriousinstitutions, and it is with no affectation of ignorance that Iprofess I never could comprehend the meaning of the phrase, whichis, however, on the lip of every American, when he talks of hiscountry. I asked if by their institutions they meant theirhospitals and penitentiaries. "Oh no! we mean the gloriousinstitutions which are coeval with the revolution." "Is it," Iasked, "your institution of marriage, which you have made purelya civil and not a religious rite, to be performed by a justice ofpeace, instead of a clergyman?"

"Oh no! we speak of our divine political institutions." Yetstill I was in the dark, nor can I guess what they mean, unlessthey call incessant electioneering, without pause or interval fora single day, for a single hour, of their whole existence, "aglorious institution."

Their unequalled freedom, I think, I understand better. Theircode of common law is built upon ours; and the difference betweenus is this, in England the laws are acted upon, in America theyare not.

I do not speak of the police of the Atlantic cities; Ibelieve it is well arranged: in New York it is celebratedfor being so; but out of the range of their influence, thecontempt of law is greater than I can venture to state, withany hope of being believed. Trespass, assault, robbery, nay,even murder, are often committed without the slightest attemptat legal interference.

During the summer that we passed most delightfully in Maryland,our rambles were often restrained in various directions by theadvice of our kind friends, who knew the manners and morals ofthe country. When we asked the cause, we were told, "There is apublic-house on that road, and it will not be safe to pass it,"

The line of the Chesapeak and Ohio canal passed within a fewmiles of Mrs. S--'s residence. It twice happened during ourstay with her, that dead bodies were found partially concealednear it. The circumstance was related as a sort of half hour'swonder; and when I asked particulars of those who, on oneoccasion, brought the tale, the reply was, "Oh, he was murderedI expect; or maybe he died of the canal fever; but they say hehad marks of being throttled." No inquest was summoned; andcertainly no more sensation was produced by the occurrence thanif a sheep had been found in the same predicament.

The abundance of food and the scarcity of hanging were alsofavourite topics, as proving their superiority to England. Theyare both excellent things, but I do not admit the inference.A wide and most fertile territory, as yet but thinly inhabited,may easily be made to yield abundant food for its population: andwhere a desperate villain knows, that when he has made his townor his village "too hot to hold him," he has nothing to do but totravel a few miles west, and be sure of finding plenty of beefand whiskey, with no danger that the law shall follow him, it isnot extraordinary that executions should be rare.

Once during our residence at Cincinnati, a murderer of uncommonatrocity was taken, tried, convicted, and condemned to death.It had been shewn on his trial, that some years before he hadmurdered a wife and child at New Orleans, but little notice hadbeen taken of it at the time. The crime which had now thrownhim into the hands of justice was the recent murder of a secondwife, and the chief evidence against him was his own son.

The day of his execution was fixed, and the sensation producedwas so great from the strangeness of the occurrence, (no whiteman having ever been executed at Cincinnati,) that persons fromsixty miles' distance came to be present at it.

Meanwhile some unco' good people began to start doubts as tothe righteousness of hanging a man, and made application to theGovernor of the State* of Ohio, to commute the sentence intoimprisonment. The Governor for some time refused to interferewith the sentence of the tribunal before which he had been tried;but at length, frightened at the unusual situation in which hefound himself, he yielded to the importunity of the Presbyterianparty who had assailed him, and sent off an order to the sheriffaccordingly. But this order was not to reprieve him, but to askhim if he pleased to be reprieved, and sent to the penitentiaryinstead of being hanged.

*(The Governors of states have the same power over life and (death as is vested, with us, in the crown.

The sheriff waited upon the criminal, and made his proposal, andwas answered. "If any thing could make me agree to it, it wouldbe the hope of living long enough to kill you and my dog of ason: however, I won't agree; you shall have the hanging of me."

The worthy sheriff, to whom the ghastly office of executioner isassigned, said all in his power to persuade him to sign theoffered document, but in vain; he obtained nothing but abuse forhis efforts.

The day of execution arrived; the place appointed was the sideof a hill, the only one cleared of trees near the town; and manyhours before the time fixed, we saw it entirely covered by animmense multitude of men, women, and children. At length thehour arrived, the dismal cart was seen slowly mounting the hill,the noisy throng was hushed into solemn silence; the wretchedcriminal mounted the scaffold, when again the sheriff asked himto sign his acceptance of the commutation proposed; but hespurned the paper from him, and cried aloud, "Hang me!"

Midday was the moment appointed for cutting the rope; the sheriffstood, his watch in one hand, and a knife in the other; the handwas lifted to strike, when the criminal stoutly exclaimed, "Isign;" and he was conveyed back to prison, amidst the shouts,laughter, and ribaldry of the mob.

I am not fond of hanging, but there was something in all thisthat did not look like the decent dignity of wholesome justice.

CHAPTER 15

Camp-Meeting

It was in the course of this summer that I found the opportunityI had long wished for, of attending a camp-meeting, and I gladlyaccepted the invitation of an English lady and gentleman toaccompany them in their carriage to the spot where it is held;this was in a wild district on the confines of Indiana.

The prospect of passing a night in the back woods of Indiana wasby no means agreeable, but I screwed my courage to the properpitch, and set forth determined to see with my own eyes, and hearwith my own ears, what a camp-meeting really was. I had heard itsaid that being at a camp-meeting was like standing at the gateof heaven, and seeing it opening before you; I had heard it said,that being at a camp-meeting was like finding yourself within thegates of hell; in either case there must be something to gratifycuriosity, and compensate one for the fatigue of a long rumblingride and a sleepless night.

We reached the ground about an hour before midnight, and theapproach to it was highly picturesque. The spot chosen was theverge of an unbroken forest, where a space of about twenty acresappeared to have been partially cleared for the purpose. Tentsof different sizes were pitched very near together in a circleround the cleared space; behind them were ranged an exteriorcircle of carriages of every description, and at the back of eachwere fastened the horses which had drawn them thither. Throughthis triple circle of defence we distinguished numerous firesburning brightly within it; and still more numerous lightsflickering from the trees that were left in the enclosure. Themoon was in meridian splendour above our heads.

We left the carriage to the care of a servant, who was to preparea bed in it for Mrs. B. and me, and entered the inner circle.The first glance reminded me of Vauxhall, from the effect of thelights among the trees, and the moving crowd below them; but thesecond shewed a scene totally unlike any thing I had everwitnessed. Four high frames, constructed in the form of altars,were placed at the four corners of the enclosure; on these weresupported layers of earth and sod, on which burned immense firesof blazing pinewood. On one side a rude platform was erected toaccommodate the preachers, fifteen of whom attended this meeting,and with very short intervals for necessary refreshment andprivate devotion, preached in rotation, day and night, fromTuesday to Saturday.

When we arrived, the preachers were silent; but we heard issuingfrom nearly every tent mingled sounds of praying, preaching,singing, and lamentation. The curtains in front of each tentwere dropped, and the faint light that gleamed through the whitedrapery, backed as it was by the dark forest, had a beautiful andmysterious effect, that set the imagination at work; and had thesounds which vibrated around us been less discordant, harsh, andunnatural, I should have enjoyed it; but listening at the cornerof a tent, which poured forth more than its proportion ofclamour, in a few moments chased every feeling derived fromimagination, and furnished realities that could neither bemistaken or forgotten.

Great numbers of persons were walking about the ground, whoappeared like ourselves to be present only as spectators; someof these very unceremoniously contrived to raise the drapery ofthis tent, at one comer, so as to afford us a perfect view ofthe interior.

The floor was covered with straw, which round the sides washeaped in masses, that might serve as seats, but which atthat moment were used to support the heads and the arms of theclose-packed circle of men and women who kneeled on the floor.

Out of about thirty persons thus placed, perhaps half a dozenwere men. One of these, a handsome looking youth of eighteenor twenty, kneeled just below the opening through which I looked.His arm was encircling the neck of a young girl who knelt besidehim, with her hair hanging dishevelled upon her shoulders, andher features working with the most violent agitation; soon afterthey both fell forward on the straw, as if unable to endure inany other attitude the burning eloquence of a tall grim figurein black, who, standing erect in the centre, was uttering withincredible vehemence an oration that seemed to hover betweenpraying and preaching; his arms hung stiff and immoveable byhis side, and he looked like an ill-constructed machine, setin action by a movement so violent, as to threaten its owndestruction, so jerkingly, painfully, yet rapidly, did hiswords tumble out; the kneeling circle ceasing not to call inevery variety of tone on the name of Jesus; accompanied withsobs, groans, and a sort of low howling inexpressibly painfulto listen to. But my attention was speedily withdrawn from thepreacher, and the circle round him, by a figure which kneltalone at some distance; it was a living image of Scott'sMacbriar, as young, as wild, and as terrible. His thin armstossed above his head, had forced themselves so far out of thesleeves, that they were bare to the elbow; his large eyes glaredfrightfully, and he continued to scream without an instant'sintermission the word "Glory!" with a violence that seemed toswell every vein to bursting. It was too dreadful to look uponlong, and we turned away shuddering.

We made the circuit of the tents, pausing where attention wasparticularly excited by sounds more vehement than ordinary.We contrived to look into many; all were strewed with straw, andthe distorted figures that we saw kneeling, sitting, and lyingamongst it, joined to the woeful and convulsive cries, gave toeach, the air of a cell in Bedlam.

One tent was occupied exclusively by Negroes. They were allfull-dressed, and looked exactly as if they were performinga scene on the stage. One woman wore a dress of pink gauzetrimmed with silver lace; another was dressed in pale yellowsilk; one or two had splendid turbans; and all wore a profusionof ornaments. The men were in snow white pantaloons, with gaycoloured linen jackets. One of these, a youth of coal-blackcomeliness, was preaching with the most violent gesticulations,frequently springing high from the ground, and clapping hishands over his head. Could our missionary societies have heardthe trash he uttered, by way of an address to the Deity, theymight perhaps have doubted whether his conversion had muchenlightened his mind.

At midnight a horn sounded through the camp, which, we were told,was to call the people from private to public worship; and wepresently saw them flocking from all sides to the front of thepreachers' stand. Mrs. B. and I contrived to place ourselveswith our backs supported against the lower part of thisstructure, and we were thus enabled to witness the scene whichfollowed without personal danger. There were about two thousandpersons assembled.

One of the preachers began in a low nasal tone, and, like allother Methodist preachers, assured us of the enormous depravityof man as he comes from the hands of his Maker, and of hisperfect sanctification after he had wrestled sufficiently withthe Lord to get hold of him, _et cetera_. The admiration of thecrowd was evinced by almost constant cries of "Amen! Amen!""Jesus! Jesus!" "Glory! Glory!" and the like. But thiscomparative tranquility did not last long: the preacher toldthem that "this night was the time fixed upon for anxioussinners to wrestle with the Lord;" that he and his brethren"were at hand to help them," and that such as needed theirhelp were to come forward into "the pen." The phrase forciblyrecalled Milton's lines--

"Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else, the least That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs! --But when they list their lean and flashy songs, Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw;-- The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed! But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly--and foul contagion spread."

"The pen" was the space immediately below the preachers' stand;we were therefore placed on the edge of it, and were enabled tosee and hear all that took place in the very centre of thisextraordinary exhibition.

The crowd fell back at the mention of the _pen_, and for someminutes there was a vacant space before us. The preachers camedown from their stand and placed themselves in the midst of it,beginning to sing a hymn, calling upon the penitents to comeforth. As they sung they kept turning themselves round to everypart of the crowd and, by degrees, the voices of the wholemultitude joined in chorus. This was the only moment at whichI perceived any thing like the solemn and beautiful effect,which I had heard ascribed to this woodland worship. It iscertain that the combined voices of such a multitude, heard atdead of night, from the depths of their eternal forests, themany fair young faces turned upward, and looking paler andlovelier as they met the moon-beams, the dark figures of theofficials in the middle of the circle, the lurid glare thrown bythe altar-fires on the woods beyond, did altogether produce afine and solemn effect, that I shall not easily forget; but ereI had well enjoyed it, the scene changed, and sublimity gaveplace to horror and disgust.

The exhortation nearly resembled that which I had heard at"the Revival," but the result was very different; for, insteadof the few hysterical women who had distinguished themselveson that occasion, above a hundred persons,, nearly all females,came forward, uttering howlings and groans, so terrible that Ishall never cease to shudder when I recall them. They appearedto drag each other forward, and on the word being given, "let uspray," they all fell on their knees; but this posture was soonchanged for others that permitted greater scope for theconvulsive movements of their limbs; and they were soon alllying on the ground in an indescribable confusion of heads andlegs. They threw about their limbs with such incessant andviolent motions, that I was every instant expecting some seriousaccident to occur.

But how am I to describe the sounds that proceeded from thisstrange mass of human beings? I know no words which can conveyan idea of it. Hysterical sobbings, convulsive groans, shrieksand screams the most appalling, burst forth on all sides. I feltsick with horror. As if their hoarse and over strained voicesfailed to make noise enough, they soon began to clap their handsviolently. The scene described by Dante was before me:-

Many of these wretched creatures were beautiful young females.The preachers moved about among them, at once exciting andsoothing their agonies. I heard the muttered "Sister! dearsister!" I saw the insidious lips approach the cheeks of theunhappy girls; I heard the murmured confessions of the poorvictims, and I watched their tormentors, breathing into theirears consolations that tinged the pale cheek with red. Had Ibeen a man, I am sure I should have been guilty of some rashact of interference; nor do I believe that such a scene couldhave been acted in the presence of Englishmen without instantpunishment being inflicted; not to mention the salutarydiscipline of the treadmill, which, beyond all question, would,in England, have been applied to check so turbulent and sovicious a scene.

After the first wild burst that followed their prostration, themeanings, in many instances, became loudly articulate; and I thenexperienced a strange vibration between tragic and comic feeling.

A very pretty girl, who was kneeling in the attitude of Canova'sMagdalene immediately before us, amongst an immense quantity ofjargon, broke out thus: "Woe! woe to the backsliders! hear it,hear it Jesus! when I was fifteen my mother died, and Ibackslided, oh Jesus, I backslided! take me home to my mother,Jesus! take me home to her, for I am weary! Oh John Mitchel!John Mitchel!" and after sobbing piteously behind her raisedhands, she lifted her sweet face again, which was as pale asdeath, and said, "Shall I sit on the sunny bank of salvation withmy mother? my own dear mother? oh Jesus, take me home, take mehome!" Who could refuse a tear to this earnest wish for death inone so young and so lovely? But I saw her, ere I left theground, with her hand fast locked, and her head supported by aman who looked very much as Don Juan might, when sent back toearth as too bad for the regions below.

One woman near us continued to "call on the Lord," as it istermed, in the loudest possible tone, and without a moment'sinterval, for the two hours that we kept our dreadful station.She became frightfully hoarse, and her face so red as to makeme expect she would burst a blood-vessel. Among the rest ofher rant, she said, "I will hold fast to Jesus, I never willlet him go; if they take me to hell, I will still hold him fast,fast, fast!"

The stunning noise was sometimes varied by the preachersbeginning to sing; but the convulsive movements of the poormaniacs only became more violent. At length the atrociouswickedness of this horrible scene increased to a degree ofgrossness, that drove us from our station; we returned to thecarriage at about three o'clock in the morning, and passedthe remainder of the night in listening to the ever increasingtumult at the pen. To sleep was impossible. At daybreak thehorn again sounded, to send them to private devotion; and inabout an hour afterwards I saw the whole camp as joyouslyand eagerly employed in preparing and devouring their mostsubstantial breakfasts as if the night had been passed indancing; and I marked many a fair but pale face, that Irecognised as a demoniac of the night, simpering beside aswain, to whom she carefully administered hot coffee andeggs. The preaching saint and the howling sinner seemed aliketo relish this mode of recruiting their strength.

After enjoying abundance of strong tea, which proved adelightful restorative after a night so strangely spent, Iwandered alone into the forest, and I never remember to havefound perfect quiet more delightful.

We soon after left the ground; but before our departure welearnt that a very _satisfactory_ collection had been made bythe preachers, for Bibles, Tracts, and _all other religiouspurposes_.

CHAPTER 16

Danger of rural excursions--Sickness

It is by no means easy to enjoy the beauties of American sceneryin the west, even when you are in a neighbourhood that affordsmuch to admire; at least, in doing so, you run considerable riskof injuring your health. Nothing is considered more dangerousthan exposure to midday heat, except exposure to evening damp;and the twilight is so short, that if you set out on anexpedition when the fervid heat subsides, you can hardly get halfa mile before "sun down," as they call it, warns you that youmust run or drive home again, as fast as possible, for fear youshould get "a chill."

I believe we braved all this more than any one else in the wholecountry, and if we had not, we should have left Cincinnatiwithout seeing any thing of the country around it.

Though we kept steadily to our resolution of passing no moresylvan hours in the forests of Ohio, we often spent entire daysin Kentucky, tracing the course of a "creek," or climbing thehighest points within our reach, in the hope of catching aglimpse of some distant object. A beautiful reach of the Ohio,or the dark windings of the pretty Licking, were indeed alwaysthe most remarkable features in the landscape.

There was one spot, however, so beautiful that we visited itagain and again; it was by no means free from mosquitoes; andbeing on the bank of a stream, with many enormous trees lying onthe half-cleared ground around, it was just such a place as wehad been told a hundred times was particularly "dangerous;"nevertheless, we dared every thing for the sake of dining besideour beautiful rippling stream, and watching the bright sunbeamsdancing on the grassy bank, at such a distance from our retreatthat they could not heat us. A little below the basin thatcooled our wine was a cascade of sufficient dimensions to give usall the music of a waterfall, and all the sparkling brightness ofclear water when it is broken again and again by jutting crags.

To sit beside this miniature cascade, and read, or dream away aday, was one of our greatest pleasures.

It was indeed a mortifying fact, that whenever we found out apicturesque nook, where turf, and moss, and deep shade, and acrystal stream, and fallen trees, majestic in their ruin, temptedus to sit down, and be very cool and very happy, we invariablyfound that that spot lay under the imputation of malaria.

A row upon the Ohio was another of our favourite amusements; butin this, I believe, we were also very singular, for often, whenenjoying it, we were shouted at, by the young free-borns on thebanks, as if we had been so many monsters.

The only rural amusement in which we ever saw any of the nativesengaged was eating strawberries and cream in a pretty gardenabout three miles from the town; here we actually met three orfour carriages; a degree of dissipation that I never witnessedon any other occasion. The strawberries were tolerablestrawberries, but the cream was the vilest sky-blue, and thecharge half a dollar to each person; which being about the priceof half a fat sheep, I thought "pretty considerable much," if Imay be permitted to use an expressive phrase of the country.

We had repeatedly been told, by those who knew the land, thatthe _second summer_ was the great trial to the health ofEuropeans settled in America; but we had now reached the middleof our second August, and with the exception of the fever one ofmy sons had suffered from, the summer after our arrival, we hadall enjoyed perfect health; but I was now doomed to feel thetruth of the above prediction, for before the end of August Ifell low before the monster that is for ever stalking throughthat land of lakes and rivers, breathing fever and death around.It was nine weeks before I left my room, and when I did, Ilooked more fit to walk into the Potter's Field, (as they callthe English burying ground) than any where else.

Long after my general health was pretty well restored, I sufferedfrom the effect of the fever in my limbs, and lay in bed readingseveral weeks after I had been pronounced convalescent. SeveralAmerican novels were brought me. Mr. Flint's Francis Berrian isexcellent; a little wild and romantic, but containing scenes offirst-rate interest and pathos. Hope Leslie, and Redwood, byMiss Sedgewick, an American lady, have both great merit; and Inow first read the whole of Mr. Cooper's novels. By the timethese American studies were completed, I never closed my eyeswithout seeing myriads of bloody scalps floating round me; longslender figures of Red Indians crept through my dreams withnoiseless tread; panthers flared; forests blazed; and whichever way I fled, a light foot, a keen eye, and a long riflewere sure to be on my trail. An additional ounce of calomelhardly sufficed to neutralize the effect of these raw-headand bloody-bones adventures. I was advised to plungeimmediately into a course of fashionable novels. It was agreat relief to me; but as my head was by no means very clear,I sometimes jumbled strangely together the civilized roguesand assassins of Mr. Bulwer, and the wild men, women, andchildren slayers of Mr. Cooper; and, truly, between them, Ipassed my dreams in very bad company.

Still I could not stand, nor even sit upright. What was I toread next? A happy thought struck me. I determined uponbeginning with Waverley, and reading through (not for the firsttime certainly) the whole series. And what a world did I enterupon! The wholesome vigour of every page seemed to communicateitself to my nerves; I ceased to be languid and fretful, andthough still a cripple, I certainly enjoyed myself mostcompletely, as long as my treat lasted; but this was a shortertime than any one would believe, who has not found how suchvolumes melt, before the constant reading of a long idle day.When it was over, however, I had the pleasure of finding that Icould walk half a dozen yards at a time, and take short airingsin an open carriage; and better still, could sleep quietly.

It was no very agreeable conviction which greeted my recovery,that our Cincinnati speculation for my son would in no way answerour expectation; and very soon after, he was again seized withthe bilious fever of the country, which terminated in that mostdistressing of all maladies, an ague. I never witnessed iseffects before, and therefore made my self extremely miserable atwhat those around me considered of no consequence.

I believe this frightful complaint is not immediately dangerous;but I never can believe that the violent and sudden prostrationof strength, the dreadfully convulsive movements which distortthe limbs, the livid hue that spreads itself over the complexion,can take place without shaking the seat of health and life.Repeatedly we thought the malady cured, and for a few days thepoor sufferer believed himself restored to health and strength;but again and again it returned upon him, and he began to givehimself up as the victim of ill health. My own health was stillvery infirm, and it took but little time to decide that we mustleave Cincinnati. The only impediment to this was, the fear thatMr. Trollope, who was to join us in the Spring, might have setout, and thus arrive at Cincinnati after we had left it.However, as the time he had talked of leaving England was laterin the season, I decided upon running the risk; but the winterhad set in with great severity, and the river being frozen, thesteam-boats could not run; the frost continued unbroken throughthe whole of February, and we were almost weary of waiting forits departure, which was to be the signal of ours.

The breaking up of the ice, on the Licking and Ohio, formed amost striking spectacle. At night the river presented a solidsurface of ice, but in the morning it shewed a collection offloating icebergs, of every imaginable size and form, whirlingagainst each other with frightful violence, and with a noiseunlike any sound I remember.

This sight was a very welcome one, as it gave us hopes ofimmediate departure, but my courage failed, when I heard thatone or two steam-boats, weary of waiting, meant to start onthe morrow. The idea of running against these floating islandswas really alarming, and I was told by many, that my fears werenot without foundation, for that repeated accidents had happenedfrom this cause; and then they talked of the little Miami river,whose mouth we were to pass, sending down masses of ice thatmight stop our progress; in short, we waited patiently andprudently, till the learned in such matters told us that we mightstart with safety.

CHAPTER 17

Departure from Cincinnati--Society on board the Steam-boat--Arrival at Wheeling--Bel Esprit

We quitted Cincinnati the beginning of March, 1830, and I believethere was not one of our party who did not experience a sensationof pleasure in leaving it. We had seen again and again all thequeer varieties of it's little world; had amused ourselves withit's consequence, it's taste, and it's ton, till they had ceasedto be amusing. Not a hill was left unclimbed, nor a forest pathunexplored; and, with the exception of two or three individuals,who bore heads and hearts peculiar to no clime, but which arefound scattered through the world, as if to keep us every wherein good humour with it, we left nought to regret at Cincinnati.The only regret was, that we had ever entered it; for we hadwasted health, time, and money there.

We got on board the steam-boat which was to convey us to Wheelingat three o'clock. She was a noble boat, by far the finest we hadseen. The cabins were above, and the deck passengers, as theyare called, were accommodated below. In front of the ladies'cabin was an ample balcony, sheltered by an awning; chairs andsofas were placed there, and even at that early season, nearlyall the female passengers passed the whole day there. The nameof this splendid vessel was the Lady Franklin. By the way, I wasoften amused by the evident fondness which the Americans shew fortitles. The wives of their eminent men constantly receive thatof "Lady." We heard of Lady Washington, Lady Jackson, and manyother "ladies." The eternal recurrence of their militia titlesis particularly ludicrous, met with, as they are, among thetavern-keepers, market-gardeners, &c. But I think the mostremarkable instance which we noticed of this sort ofaristocratical longing occurred at Cincinnati. Mr. T-- inspeaking of a gentleman of the neighbourhood, called him Mr. M--."General M--, sir," observed his companion. "I beg his pardon,"rejoined Mr. T--, "but I was not aware of his being in the army.""No, sir, not in the army," was the reply, "but he was surveyor-general of the district."

The weather was delightful; all trace of winter had disappeared,and we again found ourselves moving rapidly up the stream, andenjoying all the beauty of the Ohio.

Of the male part of the passengers we saw nothing, excepting atthe short silent periods allotted for breakfast, dinner, andsupper, at which we were permitted to enter their cabin, andplace ourselves at their table.

In the Lady Franklin we had decidedly the best of it, for we hadour beautiful balcony to sit in. In all respects, indeed, ouraccommodations were very superior to what we had found in theboat which brought us from New Orleans to Memphis, where we werestowed away in a miserable little chamber close aft, under thecabin, and given to understand by the steward, that it was ourduty there to remain "till such time as the bell should ring formeals."

The separation of the sexes, so often mentioned, is no where moreremarkable than on board the steam-boats. Among the passengerson this occasion we had a gentleman and his wife, who reallyappeared to suffer from the arrangement. She was an invalid, andhe was extremely attentive to her, as far, at least, as theregulations permitted. When the steward opened the door ofcommunication between the cabins, to permit our approaching thetable, her husband was always stationed close to it to hand herto her place; and when he accompanied her again to the door, healways lingered for a moment or two on the forbidden threshold,nor left his station, till the last female had passed through.Once or twice he ventured, when all but his wife were on thebalcony, to sit down beside her for a moment in our cabin, butthe instant either of us entered, he started like a guilty thingand vanished.

While mentioning the peculiar arrangements which are thoughtnecessary to the delicacy of the American ladies, or the comfortof the American gentlemen, I am tempted to allude to a storywhich I saw in the papers respecting the visits which it wasstated Captain Basil Hall persisted in making to his wife andchild on board a Mississippi steam-boat, after bring informedthat doing so was contrary to law. Now I happen to know thatneither himself or Mrs. Hall ever entered the ladies' cabinduring the whole voyage, as they occupied a state-room whichCaptain Hall had secured for his party. The veracity ofnewspaper statements is, perhaps, nowhere quite unimpeachable,but if I am not greatly mistaken, there are more directfalsehoods circulated by the American newspapers than by all theothers in the world, and the one great and never-failing sourceof these voluminous works of imagination is England and theEnglish. How differently would such a voyage be managed on theother side of the Atlantic, were such a mode of travellingpossible there. Such long calm river excursions would beperfectly delightful, and parties would be perpetually formed toenjoy them. Even were all the parties strangers to each other,the knowledge that they were to eat, drink, and steam awaytogether for a week or fortnight, would induce something like asocial feeling in any other country.

It is true that the men became sufficiently acquainted to gametogether, and we were told that the opportunity was considered asso favourable, that no boat left New Orleans without having ascabin passengers one or two gentlemen from that city whoseprofession it was to drill the fifty-two elements of a pack ofcards to profitable duty. This doubtless is an additional reasonfor the strict exclusion of the ladies from their society. Theconstant drinking of spirits is another, for though they do notscruple to chew tobacco and to spit incessantly in the presenceof women, they generally prefer drinking and gaming in theirabsence.

I often used to amuse myself with fancying the different scenewhich such a vessel would display in Europe. The noble length ofthe gentlemen's cabin would be put into requisition for a dance,while that of the ladies, with their delicious balcony, would beemployed for refreshments, instead of sitting down in two longsilent melancholy rows, to swallow as much coffee and beef-steakas could be achieved in ten minutes. Then song and music wouldbe heard borne along by the midnight breeze; but on the Ohio,when light failed to shew us the bluffs, and the trees, withtheir images inverted in the stream, we crept into our littlecots, listening to the ceaseless churning of the engine, in hopeit would prove a lullaby till morning.

We were three days in reaching Wheeling, where we arrived atlast, at two o'clock in the morning, an uncomfortable hour todisembark with a good deal of luggage, as the steam-boat wasobliged to go on immediately; but we were instantly supplied witha dray, and in a few moments found ourselves comfortably seatedbefore a good fire, at an hotel near the landing-place; ourrooms, with fires in them, were immediately ready for us, andrefreshments brought, with all that sedulous attention which inthis country distinguishes a slave state. In making thisobservation I am very far from intending to advocate the systemof slavery; I conceive it to be essentially wrong; but so far asmy observation has extended, I think its influence is far lessinjurious to the manners and morals of the people than thefallacious ideas of equality, which are so fondly cherished bythe working classes of the white population in America. Thatthese ideas are fallacious, is obvious, for in point of fact theman possessed of dollars does command the services of the manpossessed of no dollars; but these services are given grudgingly,and of necessity, with no appearance of cheerful goodwill on theone side, or of kindly interest on the other. I never failed tomark the difference on entering a slave state. I was immediatelycomfortable, and at my ease, and felt that the intercoursebetween me and those who served me, was profitable to bothparties and painful to neither.

It was not till I had leisure for more minute observation that Ifelt aware of the influence of slavery upon the owners of slaves;when I did, I confess I could not but think that the citizens ofthe United States had contrived, by their political alchymy, toextract all that was most noxious both in democracy and inslavery, and had poured the strange mixture through every vein ofthe moral organization of their country.

Wheeling is the state of Virginia, and appears to be aflourishing town. It is the point at which most travellers fromthe West leave the Ohio, to take the stages which travel themountain road to the Atlantic cities.

It has many manufactories, among others, one for blowing andcutting glass, which we visited. We were told by the workmenthat the articles finished there were equal to any in the world;but my eyes refused their assent. The cutting was very good,though by no means equal to what we see in daily use in London;but the chief inferiority is in the material, which is neveraltogether free from colour. I had observed this also in theglass of the Pittsburgh manufactory, the labour bestowed on italways appearing greater than the glass deserved. They told usalso, that they were rapidly improving in the art, and I have nodoubt that this was true.

Wheeling has little of beauty to distinguish it, except the everlovely Ohio, to which we here bid adieu, and a fine bold hill,which rises immediately behind the town. This hill, as well asevery other in the neighbourhood, is bored for coal. Their minesare all horizontal. The coal burns well, but with a very blackand dirty cinder.

We found the coach, by which we meant to proceed to LittleWashington, full, and learnt that we must wait two days before itwould again leave the town. Posting was never heard of in thecountry, and the mail travelled all night, which I did notapprove of; we therefore found ourselves compelled to pass twodays at the Wheeling hotel.

I know not how this weary interval would have worn away, had itnot been for the fortunate circumstance of our meeting with a_bel esprit_ among the boarders there. We descended to thecommon sitting room (for private parlours there are none) beforebreakfast the morning after our arrival; several ordinaryindividuals entered, till the party amounted to eight or nine.Again the door opened, and in swam a female, who had oncecertainly been handsome, and who, it was equally evident, stillthought herself so. She was tall, and well formed, dressed inblack, with many gaudy trinkets about her: a scarlet _fichu_relieved the sombre colour of her dress, and a very smart littlecap at the back of her head set off an immense quantity of sablehair, which naturally, or artificially, adorned her forehead.A becoming quantity of rouge gave the finishing touch to herfigure, which had a degree of pretension about it thatimmediately attracted our notice. She talked fluently, andwithout any American restraint, and I began to be greatly puzzledas to who or what she could be; a lady, in the English sense ofthe word, I was sure she was not, and she was a little like anAmerican female of what they call good standing. A beautifulgirl of seventeen entered soon after, and called her "Ma," andboth mother and daughter chattered away, about themselves andtheir concerns, in a manner that greatly increased my puzzle.

After breakfast, being much in want of amusement, I seated myselfby her, and entered into conversation. I found her nothing loth,and in about a minute and a half she put a card into my hand,setting forth, that she taught the art of painting upon velvet inall its branches.

She stated to me, with great volubility, that no one but herselfand her daughter knew any thing of this invaluable branch of art;but that for twenty-five dollars they were willing to communicateall they knew.

In five minutes more she informed me that she was the author ofsome of the most cutting satires in the language; and then shepresented me a paper, containing a prospectus, as she called it,of a novel, upon an entirely new construction. I was strangelytempted to ask her if it went by steam, but she left me no timeto ask any thing, for, continuing the autobiography she had soobligingly begun, she said, "I used to write against all theAdams faction. I will go up stairs in a moment and fetch youdown my sat-heres against that side. But oh! my dear madam! itis really frightful to think how talent is neglected in thiscountry. Ah! I know what you are going to say, my dear madam,you will tell me that it is not so in yours. I know it! butalas! the Atlantic! However, I really must tell you how I havebeen treated: not only did I publish the most biting sat-heresagainst the Adams faction, but I wrote songs and odes in honourof Jackson; and my daughter, Cordelia, sang a splendid song ofmy writing, before eight hundred people, entirely and altogetherwritten in his praise; and would you believe it, my dear madam,he has never taken the slightest notice of me, or made me theleast remuneration. But you can't suppose I mean to bear itquietly? No! I promise him that is not my way. The novelI have just mentioned to you was began as a sentimentalromance (that, perhaps, after all, is my real forte), butafter the provocation I received at Washington, I turned itinto a sat-herical novel, and I now call it _Yankee DoodleCourt_. By the way my dear madam, I think if I could make upmy mind to cross that terrible Atlantic, I should be prettywell received, after writing Yankee Doodle Court!"

I took the opportunity of a slight pause to ask her to what partyshe now belonged, since she had forsworn both Adams and Jackson.

"Oh Clay! Clay for ever! he is a real true-hearted republican;the others are neither more nor less than tyrants."

When next I entered the sitting-room she again addressed me, todeplore the degenerate taste of the age.

"Would you believe it? I have at this moment a comedy ready forrepresentation; I call it 'The Mad Philosopher.' It is reallyadmirable, and its success certain, if I could get it played.I assure you the neglect I meet with amounts perfectly topersecution. But I have found out how to pay them, and to makemy own fortune. Sat-here, (as she constantly pronounced satire)sat-here is the only weapon that can revenge neglect, and Iflatter myself I know how to use it. Do me the favour to lookat this,"

She then presented me with a tiny pamphlet, whose price, sheinformed me, was twenty-five cents, which I readily paid tobecome the possessor of this _chef d'oeuvre_. The compositionwas pretty nearly such as I anticipated, excepting that theEnglish language was done to death by her pen still more than byher tongue. The epigraph, which was subscribed "original," wasas follows:

"Your popularity's on the decline: You had your triumph! now I'll have mine."

These are rather a favourable specimen of the verses that follow.

In a subsequent conversation she made me acquainted with anothertalent, informing me that she had played the part of Charlotte,in _Love a la mode_, when General Lafayette honoured the theatreat Cincinnati with his presence.

She now appeared to have run out the catalogue of heraccomplishments; and I came to the conclusion that my newacquaintance was a strolling player: but she seemed to guess mythoughts, for she presently added. "It was a Thespian corps thatplayed before the General."

CHAPTER 18

Departure for the mountains in the Stage--Scenery of theAlleghany--Haggerstown

The weather was bleak and disagreeable during the two days wewere obliged to remain at Wheeling. I had got heartily tired ofmy gifted friend; we had walked up every side of the rugged hill,and I set off on my journey towards the mountains with morepleasure than is generally felt in quitting a pillow beforedaylight, for a cold corner in a rumbling stage-coach.

This was the first time we had got into an American stage, thoughwe had traversed above two thousand miles of the country, and wehad all the satisfaction in it, which could be derived from theconviction that we were travelling in a foreign land. Thisvehicle had no step, and we climbed into it by a ladder; whenthat was removed I remembered, with some dismay, that the femalesat least were much in the predicament of sailors, who, "in dangerhave no door to creep out," but when a misfortune is absolutelyinevitable, we are apt to bear it remarkably well; who wouldutter that constant petition of ladies on rough roads, "let me getout," when compliance would oblige the pleader to make a step offive feet before she could touch the ground?

The coach had three rows of seats, each calculated to hold threepersons, and as we were only six, we had, in the phrase ofMilton, to "inhabit lax" this exalted abode, and, accordingly, wewere for some miles tossed about like a few potatoes in awheelbarrow. Our knees, elbows, and heads required too much carefor their protection to allow us leisure to look out of thewindows; but at length the road became smoother, and we becamemore skilful in the art of balancing ourselves, so as to meet theconcussion with less danger of dislocation.

We then found that we were travelling through a very beautifulcountry, essentially different in its features from what we hadbeen accustomed to round Cincinnati: it is true we had left "_labelle riviere_" behind us, but the many limpid and rapid littlestreams that danced through the landscape to join it, more thanatoned for its loss.

The country already wore an air of more careful husbandry, andthe very circumstance of a wide and costly road (though not avery smooth one), which in theory might be supposed to injurepicturesque effect, was beautiful to us, who, since we hadentered the muddy mouth of the Mississippi, had never seen anything except a steam-boat and the _levee_ professing to have sonoble an object as public accommodation. Through the whole ofthe vast region we had passed, excepting at New Orleans itself,every trace of the art of man appeared to be confined to theindividual effort of "getting along," which, in western phrase,means contriving to live with as small a portion of theincumbrances of civilized society as possible.

This road was made at the expense of the government as far asCumberland, a town situated among the Alleghany mountains, and,from the nature of the ground, must have been a work of greatcost. I regretted not having counted the number of bridgesbetween Wheeling and Little Washington, a distance of thirty-fourmiles; over one stream only there are twenty-five, all passed bythe road. They frequently occurred within a hundred yards ofeach other, so serpentine is its course; they are built of stone,and sometimes very neatly finished.

Little Washington is in Pennsylvania, across a corner of whichthe road runs. This is a free state, but we were still waitedupon by Negroes, hired from the neighbouring state of Virginia.We arrived at night, and set off again at four in the morning;all, therefore, that we saw of Little Washington was its hotel,which was clean and comfortable. The first part of the nextday's journey was through a country much less interesting: itscharacter was unvaried for nearly thirty miles, consisting of anuninterrupted succession of forest-covered hills. As soon as wehad wearily dragged to the top of one of these, we began torumble down the other side as rapidly as our four horses couldtrot; and no sooner arrived at the bottom than we began to crawlup again; the trees constantly so thick and so high as topreclude the possibility of seeing fifty yards in any direction.

The latter part of the day, however, amply repaid us. At fouro'clock we began to ascend the Alleghany mountains: the firstridge on the western side is called Laurel Hill, and takes itsname from the profuse quantity of evergreens with which it iscovered; not any among them, however, being the shrub to which wegive the name of laurel.

The whole of this mountain region, through ninety miles of whichthe road passes, is a garden. The almost incredible variety ofplants, and the lavish profusion of their growth, produce aneffect perfectly enchanting. I really can hardly conceive ahigher enjoyment than a botanical tour among the Alleghanymountains, to any one who had science enough to profit by it.

The magnificent rhododendron first caught our eyes; it fringesevery cliff, nestles beneath every rock, and blooms around everytree. The azalia, the shumac, and every variety of thatbeautiful mischief, the kalmia, are in equal profusion. Cedarsof every size and form were above, around, and underneath us;firs more beautiful and more various than I had ever seen, werein equal abundance, but I know not whether they were really suchas I had never seen in Europe, or only in infinitely greatersplendour and perfection of growth; the species called thehemlock is, I think, second to the cedar only, in magnificence.Oak and beech, with innumerable roses and wild vines, hanging inbeautiful confusion among their branches, were in many placesscattered among the evergreens. The earth was carpeted withvarious mosses and creeping plants, and though still in the monthof March, not a trace of the nakedness of winter could be seen.Such was the scenery that shewed us we were indeed among thefar-famed Alleghany mountains.

As our noble terrace-road, the Semplon of America, rose higherand higher, all that is noblest in nature was joined to all thatis sweetest. The blue tops of the higher ridges formed theoutline; huge masses of rock rose above us on the left, half hidat intervals by the bright green shrubs, while to the right welooked down upon the tops of the pines and cedars which clothedthe bottom.

I had no idea of the endless variety of mountain scenery. Mynotions had been of rocks and precipices, of torrents and offorest trees, but I little expected that the first spot whichshould recall the garden scenery of our beautiful England wouldbe found among the moutains: yet so it was. From the time Ientered America I had never seen the slightest approach to whatwe call pleasure-grounds; a few very worthless and scentlessflowers were all the specimens of gardening I had seen in Ohio;no attempt at garden scenery was ever dreamed of, and it was withthe sort of delight with which one meets an old friend, that welooked on the lovely mixture of trees, shrubs, and flowers, thatnow continually met our eyes. Often, on descending into thenarrow vallies, we found a little spot of cultivation, a gardenor a field, hedged round with shumacs, rhododendrons, andazalias, and a cottage covered with roses. These vallies arespots of great beauty; a clear stream is always found runningthrough them, which is generally converted to the use of themiller, at some point not far from the road; and here, as on theheights, great beauty of colouring is given to the landscape, bythe bright hue of the vegetation, and the sober grey of therocks.

The first night we passed among the mountains recalled uspainfully from the enjoyment of nature to all the petty miseriesof personal discomfort. Arrived at our inn, a forlorn parlour,filled with the blended fumes of tobacco and whiskey, receivedus; and chilled, as we began to feel ourselves with the mountainair, we preferred going to our cold bedrooms rather than sup insuch an atmosphere. We found linen on the beds which theyassured us had only been used _a few nights_; every kind ofrefreshment we asked for we were answered, "We do not happen tohave that article." We were still in Pennsylvania, and no longerwaited upon by slaves; it was, therefore, with great difficultythat we procured a fire in our bedrooms from the surly-looking_young lady_ who condescended to officiate as chambermaid, andwith much more, that we extorted clean linen for our beds; thatdone, we patiently crept into them supperless, while she made herexit muttering about the difficulty of "fixing English folks."

The next morning cheered our spirits again; we now enjoyed a newkind of alpine witchery; the clouds were floating around, andbelow us, and the distant peaks were indistinctly visible asthrough a white gauze veil, which was gradually lifted up, tillthe sun arose, and again let in upon us the full glory of theseinterminable heights.

We were told before we began the ascent, that we should find snowfour inches deep on the road; but as yet we had seen none, andindeed it was with difficulty we persuaded ourselves that we werenot travelling in the midst of summer. As we proceeded, however,we found the northern declivities still covered with it, and atlength, towards the summit, the road itself had the promised fourinches. The extreme mildness of the air, and the brilliant hueof the evergreens, contrasted strangely with this appearance ofwinter; it was difficult to understand how the snow could helpmelting in such an atmosphere.

Again and again we enjoyed all the exhilarating sensations thatsuch scenes must necessarily inspire, but in attempting acontinued description of our progress over these beautifulmountains, I could only tell again of rocks, cedars, laurels, andrunning streams, of blue heights, and green vallies, yet thecontinually varying combinations of these objects afforded usunceasing pleasure. From one point, pre-eminently above anyneighbouring ridge, we looked back upon the enormous valley ofthe West. It is a stupendous view; but having gazed upon it forsome moments, we turned to pursue our course, and the certaintythat we should see it no more, raised no sigh of regret.

We dined, on the second day, at a beautiful spot, which we weretold was the highest point on the road, being 2,846 feet abovethe level of the sea. We were regaled luxuriously on wild turkeyand mountain venison; which latter is infinitely superior to anyfurnished by the forests of the Mississippi, or the Ohio. Thevegetables also were extremely fine, and we were told by a prettygirl, who superintended the slaves that waited on us, (for wewere again in Virginia), that the vegetables of the Alleghanywere reckoned the finest in America. She told us also, that wildstrawberries were profusely abundant, and very fine; that theircows found for themselves, during the summer, plenty of floweryfood, which produced a copious supply of milk; that their springgave them the purest water, of icy coldness in the warmestseasons; and that the climate was the most delicious in theworld, for though the thermometer sometimes stood at ninety,their cool breeze never failed them. What a spot to turn hermitin for a summer! My eloquent mountaineer gave me some specimensof ground plants, far unlike any thing I had ever seen. Oneparticularly, which she called the ground pine, is peculiar asshe told me, to the Alleghany, and in some places runs over wholeacres of ground; it is extremely beautiful. The rooms were veryprettily decorated with this elegant plant, hung round it infestoons.

In many places the clearing has been considerable; the roadpasses through several fine farms, situated in the shelteredhollows; we were told that the wolves continue to annoy themseverely, but that panthers, the terror of the West, are neverseen, and bears very rarely. Of snakes, they confessed they hadabundance, but very few that were considered dangerous.

In the afternoon we came in sight of the Monongehala river; andits banks gave us for several miles a beautiful succession ofwild and domestic scenery. In some points, the black rock risesperpendicularly from its margin, like those at Chepstow; atothers, a mill, with its owner's cottage, its corn-plat, and itspoultry, present a delightful image of industry and comfort.

Brownsville is a busy looking little town built upon the banks ofthis river; it would be pretty, were it not stained by the hue ofcoal. I do not remember in England to have seen any spot,however near a coal mine, so dyed in black as Wheeling andBrownsville. At this place we crossed the Monongehala, in a flatferry-boat, which very commodiously received our huge coach andfour horses.

On leaving the black little town, we were again cheered byabundance of evergreens, reflected in the stream, with fantasticpiles of rock, half visible through the pines and cedars above,giving often the idea of a vast gothic castle. It was a folly, Iconfess, but I often lamented they were not such; the travellingfor thousands of miles, without meeting any nobler trace of theages that are passed, than a mass of rotten leaves, or a fragmentof fallen rock, produces a heavy, earthly matter-of-fact effectupon the imagination, which can hardly be described, and forwhich the greatest beauty of scenery can furnish only anoccasional and transitory remedy.

Our second night in the mountains was past at a solitary house ofrather forlorn appearance; but we fared much better than thenight before, for they gave us clean sheets, a good fire, and noscolding. We again started at four o'clock in the morning, andeagerly watched for the first gleam of light that should show thesame lovely spectacle we had seen the day before; nor were wedisappointed, though the show was somewhat different. Thevapours caught the morning ray, as it first darted over themountain top, and passing it to the scene below, we seemedenveloped in a rainbow.

We had now but one ridge left to pass over, and as we reached thetop, and looked down on the new world before us, I hardly knewwhether most to rejoice that

"All the toil of the long-pass'd way"

was over, or to regret that our mountain journey was drawing toa close.

The novelty of my enjoyment had doubtless added much to itskeenness. I have never been familiar with mountain scenery.Wales has shewn me all I ever saw, and the region of theAlleghany Alps in no way resembles it. It is a world ofmountains rising around you in every direction, and in everyform; savage, vast, and wild; yet almost at every step, somelovely spot meets your eye, green, bright and blooming, as themost cherished nook belonging to some noble Flora in our ownbeautiful land. It is a ride of ninety miles through kalmies,rhododendrons, azalias, vines and roses; sheltered from everyblast that blows by vast masses of various coloured rocks, onwhich

"Tall pines and cedars wave their dark green crests."

While in every direction you have a background of blue mountaintops, that play at bo-peep with you in the clouds.

After descending the last ridge we reached Haggerstown, a smallneat place, between a town and a village; and here by the pietyof the Presbyterian coach-masters, we were doomed to pass anentire day, and two nights, "as the accommodation line must notrun on the sabbath."

I must, however, mention, that this day of enforced rest was_not_ Sunday. Saturday evening we had taken in at Cumberland aportly passenger, whom we soon discovered to be one of theproprietors of the coach. He asked us, with great politeness, ifwe should wish to travel on the sabbath, or to delay our journey.We answered that we would rather proceed; "The coach, then, shallgo on tomorrow," replied the liberal coach-master, with thegreatest courtesy; and accordingly we travelled all Sunday, andarrived at Haggerstown on Sunday night. At the door of the innour civil proprietor left us; but when we enquired of the waiterat what hour we were to start on the morrow, he told us that weshould be obliged to pass the whole of Monday there, as the coachwhich was to convey us forward would not arrive from the east,till Tuesday morning.

Thus we discovered that the waiving the sabbath-keeping by theproprietor, was for his own convenience, and not for ours, andthat we were to be tied by the leg for four-and-twenty hoursnotwithstanding. This was quite a Yankee trick.

Luckily for us, the inn at Haggerstown was one of the mostcomfortable I ever entered. It was there that we became fullyaware that we had left Western America behind us. Instead ofbeing scolded, as we literally were at Cincinnati, for asking fora private sitting-room, we here had two, without asking at all.A waiter, quite _comme il faut_, summoned us to breakfast,dinner, and tea, which we found prepared with abundance, and evenelegance. The master of the house met us at the door of theeating-room, and, after asking if we wished for any thing not onthe table, retired. The charges were in no respect higher thanat Cincinnati.

A considerable creek, called Conococheque Creek, runs near thetown, and the valley through which it passes is said to be themost fertile in America.

On leaving Haggerstown we found, to our mortification, that wewere not to be the sole occupants of the bulky accommodation, twoladies and two gentlemen appearing at the door ready to share itwith us. We again started, at four o'clock, by the light of abright moon, and rumbled and nodded through the roadsconsiderably worse than those over the mountains.

As the light began to dawn we discovered our ladies to be an oldwoman and her pretty daughter.

Soon after daylight we found that our pace became much slowerthan usual, and that from time to time our driver addressed tohis companion on the box many and vehement exclamations. Thegentlemen put their heads out, to ask what was the matter, butcould get no intelligence, till the mail overtook us, when bothvehicles stopped, and an animated colloquy of imprecations tookplace between the coachmen. At length we learnt that one of ourwheels was broken in such a manner as to render it impossible forus to proceed. Upon this the old lady immediately became aprincipal actor in the scene. She sprung to the window, andaddressing the set of gentlemen who completely filled the mail,exclaimed "Gentlemen! can't you make room for two? only me and mydaughter?" The naive simplicity of this request set both thecoaches into an uproar of laughter. It was impossible to doubtthat she acted upon the same principle as the pious Catholic, whoaddressing heaven with a prayer for himself alone, added "_pourne pas fatiguer ta misericorde._" Our laugh, however, neverdaunted the old woman, or caused her for a moment to cease thereiteration of her request, "only for two of us, gentlemen! can'tyou find room for two?"

Our situation was really very embarrassing, but not to laugh wasimpossible. After it was ascertained that our own vehicle couldnot convey us, and that the mail had not even room for two, wedecided upon walking to the next village, a distance,fortunately, of only two miles, and awaiting there the repair ofthe wheel. We immediately set off, at the brisk pace that sixo'clock and a frosty morning in March were likely to inspire,leaving our old lady and her pretty daughter considerably in therear; our hearts having been rather hardened by the exclusivenature of her prayer for aid.

When we had again started upon our new wheel, the driver, torecover the time he had lost, drove rapidly over a very roughroad, in consequence of which, our self-seeking old lady fellinto a perfect agony of terror, and her cries of "we shall beover! oh, Lord! we shall be over! we must over! we shall beover!" lasted to the end of the stage which with laughing,walking, and shaking, was a most fatiguing one.

As we advanced towards Baltimore the look of cultivationincreased, the fences wore an air of greater neatness, the housesbegan to look like the abodes of competence and comfort, and wewere consoled for the loss of the beautiful mountains by knowingthat we were approaching the Atlantic.

From the time of quitting the Ohio river, though, unquestionably,it merits its title of "the beautiful," especially when comparedwith the dreary Mississippi, I strongly felt the truth of anobservation I remembered to have heard in England, that littlerivers were more beautiful than great ones. As features in alandscape, this is assuredly the case. Where the stream is sowide that the objects on the opposite shore are indistinct, allthe beauty must be derived from the water itself; whereas, whenthe stream is narrow, it becomes only a part of the composition.The Monongahela, which is in size between the Wye and the Thames,is infinitely more picturesque than the Ohio.

To enjoy the beauty of the vast rivers of this vast country youmust be upon the water; and then the power of changing thescenery by now approaching one shore, and now the other, is verypleasing; but travelling as we now did, by land, the wild, rocky,narrow, rapid little rivers we encountered, were a thousand timesmore beautiful. The Potapsco, near which the road runs, as youapproach Baltimore, is at many points very picturesque. Thelarge blocks of grey rock, now close upon its edge, and nowretiring to give room for a few acres of bright green herbage,give great interest and variety to its course.

Baltimore is, I think, one of the handsomest cities to approachin the Union. The noble column erected to the memory ofWashington, and the Catholic Cathedral, with its beautiful dome,being built on a commanding eminence, are seen at a greatdistance. As you draw nearer, many other domes and towers becomevisible, and as you enter Baltimore-street, you feel that you arearrived in a handsome and populous city.

We took up our quarters at an excellent hotel, where the coachstopped, and the next day were fortunate enough to findaccommodation in the house of a lady, well known to many of myEuropean friends. With her and her amiable daughter, we spent afortnight very agreeably, and felt quite aware that if we had notarrived in London or Paris, we had, at least, left far behind the"half-horse, half-alligator" tribes of the West, as theKentuckians call themselves.

Baltimore is in many respects a beautiful city; it has severalhandsome buildings, and even the private dwelling-houses have alook of magnificence, from the abundance of white marble withwhich many of them are adorned. The ample flights of steps, andthe lofty door frames, are in most of the best houses formed ofthis beautiful material.

This has been called the city of monuments, from its having thestately column erected to the memory of General Washington, andwhich bears a colossal statue of him at the top; and anotherpillar of less dimensions, recording some victory; I forgetwhich. Both these are of brilliant white marble. There are alsoseveral pretty marble fountains in different parts of the city,which greatly add to its beauty. These are not, it is true,quite so splendid as that of the Innocents, or many others atParis, but they are fountains of clear water, and they are builtof white marble. There is one which is sheltered from the sun bya roof supported by light columns; it looks like a templededicated to the genius of the spring. The water flows into amarble cistern, to which you descend by a flight of steps ofdelicate whiteness, and return by another. These steps are neverwithout groups of negro girls, some carrying the water on theirheads, with that graceful steadiness of step, which requires noaid from the hand; some tripping gaily with their yet unfilledpitchers; many of them singing in the soft rich voice, peculiarto their race; and all dressed with that strict attention totaste and smartness, which seems the distinguishingcharacteristic of the Baltimore females of all ranks.

The Catholic Cathedral is considered by all Americans as amagnificent church, but it can hardly be so classed by any onewho has seen the churches of Europe; its interior, however, hasan air of neatness that amounts to elegance. The form is a Greekcross, having a dome in the centre; but the proportions are ill-preserved; the dome is too low, and the arches which support itare flattened, and too wide for their height. On each side ofthe high altar are chapels to the Saviour and the Virgin. Thealtars in these, as well as the high altar, are of native marbleof different colours, and some of the specimens are verybeautiful. The decorations of the altar are elegant and costly.The prelate is a cardinal, and bears, moreover, the title of"Archbishop of Baltimore."

There are several paintings in different parts of the church,which we heard were considered as very fine. There are twopresented by Louis XVIII; one of these is the Descent from theCross, by Paulin Guirin; the other a copy from Rubens, (as theytold us) of a legend of St. Louis in the Holy Land; but thecomposition of the picture is so abominably bad, that I conceivethe legend of its being after Rubens, must be as fabulous as itssubject. The admiration in which these pictures are held, is anincontestable indication of the state of art in the country.

We attended mass in this church the Sunday after our arrival, andI was perfectly astonished at the beauty and splendid appearanceof the ladies who filled it. Excepting on a very brilliantSunday at the Tuilleries, I never saw so shewy a display ofmorning costume, and I think I never saw any where so manybeautiful women at one glance. They all appeared to be in fulldress, and were really all beautiful.

The sermon (I am very attentive to sermons) was a mostextraordinary one. The priest began by telling us, that he wasabout to preach upon a vice that he would not "mention or name"from the beginning of his sermon to the end.

Having thus excited the curiosity of his hearers, by proposing ariddle to them, he began.

Adam, he said, was most assuredly the first who had committedthis sin, and Cain the next; then, following the advice given bythe listener, in the Plaideurs, "Passons au deluge, je vousprie;" he went on to mention the particular propriety of Noah'sfamily on this point; and then continued, "Now observe, what didGod shew the greatest dislike to? What was it that Jesus wasnever even accused of? What was it Joseph hated the most? Whowas the disciple that Jesus chose for his friend?" and thus hewent on for nearly an hour, in a strain that was often perfectlyunintelligible to me, but which, as far as I could comprehendit, appeared to be a sort of expose and commentary upon privateanecdotes which he had found, or fancied he had found in theBible. I never saw the attention of a congregation more stronglyexcited, and I really wished, in Christian charity, thatsomething better had rewarded it.

There are a vast number of churches and chapels in the city, inproportion to its extent, and several that are large and well-built; the Unitarian church is the handsomest I have ever seendedicated to that mode of worship. But the prettiest among themis a little _bijou_ of a thing belonging to the Catholic college.The institution is dedicated to St. Mary, but this little chapellooks, though in the midst of a city, as if it should have beensacred to St. John of the wilderness. There is a sequesteredlittle garden behind it, hardly large enough to plant cabbagesin, which yet contains a Mount Calvary, bearing a lofty cross.The tiny path which leads up to this sacred spot, is not muchwider than a sheep-track, and its cedars are but shrubs, but allis in proportion; and notwithstanding its fairy dimensions, thereis something of holiness, and quiet beauty about it, that excitesthe imagination strangely. The little chapel itself has the sametouching and impressive character. A solitary lamp, whose glareis tempered by delicately painted glass, hangs before the altar.The light of day enters dimly, yet richly, through crimsoncurtains, and the silence with which the well-lined doors openedfrom time to time, admitting a youth of the establishment, who,with noiseless tread, approached the altar, and kneeling, offereda whispered prayer, and retired, had something in it morecalculated, perhaps, to generate holy thoughts, than even theswelling anthem heard beneath the resounding dome of St. Peter's.

Baltimore has a handsome museum, superintended by one of thePeale family, well known for their devotion to natural science,and to works of art. It is not their fault if the specimenswhich they are enabled to display in the latter department arevery inferior to their splendid exhibitions in the former.

The theatre was closed when we were in Baltimore, but we weretold that it was very far from being a popular or fashionableamusement. We were, indeed, told this every where throughout thecountry, and the information was generally accompanied by theobservation, that the opposition of the clergy was the cause ofit. But I suspect that this is not the principal cause,